


Historia De Taxi

by LadyCherryPie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Multi, Non-Graphic Smut, Songfic, first voltron fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCherryPie/pseuds/LadyCherryPie
Summary: Songfic based/inspired by 'Historia de taxi' by Ricardo ArjonaThat's pretty much it, read notes for more.





	Historia De Taxi

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first Voltron fic, as I tagged, and well, decided to make an easy and quick thing. 
> 
> I don't even like Ricardo Arjona but I listened to this song on the radio and got inspired. English is not my first language so if there's something that isn't comprehensible or is grammatically wrong, blame Google traslator! XD
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and as you can see in the relationship tag, this is Sheith and other two (you'll know why soon), so you can choose whoever you want to fill those spaces, I didn't specified.
> 
> Enjoy! XOXO

22:00hrs.

 

Saturday

 

 

My ’68 Volkswagen was making its way down the almost empty street. Tonight was one of those slow nights, were not a lot of people wanted to take a taxi. No people, no fare, then.

I was bored, driving through the city listening to the soft murmur of the radio and loud urban sounds, characteristic of a big city as Los Angeles. The radio was humming a soft but rhythmic ballad in Spanish that I couldn’t understand and the city was full with its night life, bright lights and people in party outfits.

The sequins of a shirt made me the stop; climbing into my car a young, lovely boy with raven hair and short dark shorts- contrasting with the red and silver of his shiny shirt, back neckline of said shirt reaching just the glory exposing that pale, and soft to the eye, back- caught my attention. He took a seat in the middle of the backseats, leaning against it while I resumed my driving.

“Where to?” I asked.

“Just drive.” Came the murmured response. And I complied.

A single black tear slipped down the boy’s cheek, leaving a faint trail of the dark eyeliner he was wearing. Subtly I looked back to him through the rearview mirror, which said _‘see what calves!’_ … However I saw something else… more.

 

 

22:40hrs.

Zigzagged in the fifth and he told me “my name is Keith” while crossing one leg over the other. He took out a strange looking cigarette that made me smile –it was a black one with little lions printed on it. I hurried to offer him fire with a trembling hand. His beauty and eccentricity were overwhelming me.

“Who are you crying for?” I asked him while retracting my hand and dropping the lighter where I found it, placing my hand in the steering wheel once again.

“A guy, who thinks that for rich, can come to cheat on me.” The raven boy, Keith, replied.

“Do not fall for love, you must get up.” I told him and looked back in the mirror. “Count on a server if what you want his revenge.” I commented playfully and he shot me a smile.

 

 

_What does a taxi driver do, seducing life?_

_What is a taxi driver doing, building a wound?_

_What does a taxi driver do, in front of a young man?_

_What is a taxi driver doing, with his bed dreams on display?_

 

That’s what I thought to myself.

 

 

“I saw him hugging and kissing someone, is of very simple class, I know for their appearance.” He was telling me and I smiled him in the mirror, he was sitting on his side. I was astounded, with the mirror fogged. He told me to double in the corner, signaling me the left. “We’re going to my house. After a couple of tequilas, we’ll see what happens.” He smirked at me while opening the door, winking, his long legs carrying him away of the vehicle

I got out of the car, following the path he was walking towards the big and luxurious house he lived in. The lights were already on, by someone that worked there, I supposed, and so it gave the house a white and clean shine in the outside.

The inside was as beautiful and bright as the outside. Keith, as told, walked into the living room and took out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila from a big wooden showcase. He placed them in the short glass table at the center of the room and took a seat on the couch, gesturing with his index finger for me to join him.

And I did

After a couple of shots and comfortable talk he moved closer to me, his warm breath ghosting over my cheek as he asked me my name, his voice was a whisper but thanks to the close distance we were seated from each other I heard him loud and clear and with the same low and intimate tone I gave him my name.

“Shiro.” He whispered with a smile. It sounded so beautiful and erotic on his lips that I couldn’t resist, his very being was making things to me that I couldn’t explain, couldn’t control.

“Say it again.” I said softly, cradling his face in my hands, whispering inches away from his attracting lips. His eyes almost closed, he moved his gaze from my own to my mouth, heavy lids fluttering with the movement of his deep and perfect purple orbs.

“Shiro.” He repeated in that soft and sweet tone that was driving me crazy since he climbed into my taxi, and I kissed him, I kissed him and again and again, deep and passionate ‘til we were breathless, then I kept kissing him.

We fell to the floor, glued to each other by lips and hands and every part of our bodies. I don’t need to describe what we did in the carpet, simply resuming that I kissed him even the eyeliner… and something more.

 

“Don’t feel alone, I hurt the same.” I told him, after all that passion and hotness passed and we were once again dressed, still disheveled and disordered. “My partner and schedule have opened an abysm and just- it’s not the same but… yeah.” I sighed. He nodded. “How one suffers from both sides of social classes.” I snorted, showing a humorless laugh, turning to Keith. “You lament in your mansion and I do in the suburbs.”

“Come with me then,” He said. “For him to know I’m not alone.” He stood without waiting a response. He made a quick but beauty ponytail on his hair and so we left, driving back to the bar he was in before I picked him up.

There we got in together, watching. Keith nodded to the bar where a couple was standing; precisely he was hugging someone else.

“Look at that, if fate is big and this city small.” I murmured, loud enough for Keith to hear over the music. “Isn’t that my partner.” I sighed.

 

 

_What does a taxi driver do, seducing life?_

_What is a taxi driver doing, building a wound?_

_What does a taxi driver do, when a gentleman concur with his partner, on time and care?_

 

I asked myself.

 

 

From that night on, they both play to deceive us, meeting in that same bar.

 

And the raven boy stops the taxi, always at ten, in the same place.

 

 

 

_FIN_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this, I have a lot of other ideas that are waiting to be cooked. Let me know what your opinion is and if I should continued (I'll try anyway :), after all I'm enthusiast) 
> 
> Thx for taking your time and read! Let me know what you think!
> 
> XOXO


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